The Hallowed
by ShadaraFoxx
Summary: A new year means all new lifestyles, right? And of course, all new threats. A year after the dust from the kishin's battle settled, Maka thought her comforable life as a Two-Star meister couldn't be more peaceful. Which of course mean that she couldn't be more wrong. This meister now has to pair up with the mysterious scythe Tsukiymo to - once again - save the world from insanity.


Chapter 1 – A New Year, A New Threat

Author's Note:

HALLO

Welcome to yet another example of my hypocrisy!

'How is it hypocritical?' you ask?

Why, it's simple, my dear children.

This story is OC based, that's how!

I never intended to post this thing at all, in fact it was a role-playing story that I created with one of my friends. I wrote it out one day and then BOOM here it is. It takes place in the manga, after Asura was 'defeated'. (hint hint, wink wink)

A little background info for yah: I was thinking about how Arachne created the first magic weapons by using witch's souls, and I thought, 'making humans into weapons wouldn't be that hard, so surely someone could make a 'magic' weapon without using a 'magic' user's soul'. What that basically means is that there's two types of magic in Soul Eater. Witch magic, and magic magic, like the stuff Eibon uses. If it were the same, then witches would be able to use the magic tools easily, right? So someone else might have created a different magic weapon that didn't require a witch's soul to become more powerful. Like a magic tool weapon or something. So I created a single one and made him a 'Hallowed' weapon, one that was made from magic alone. A pure weapon in a sense. :D

Thanks to the fact that it takes place 1 year after Asura's fall, I assume that many changes have been made, but since I don't know what they are, I made some up!

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater

* * *

Shibusen bustled with life. The first day of school was always the same for the academy; backpacks were stuffed to the rim with unopened school supplies, first-years shuffled around asking for directions, and returning students greeted old friends. Through the crowd of first-years that flooded the bottom floor of the academy, scythe meister Maka Albarn pushed her way through the beehive of a hallway, pulling herself to safety on the stairway that led to the second level of Shibusen, where the Two-Star meisters had their classes. Unlike the bottom floor, the second floor was calm. There weren't as many graduating One-Star meisters from the previous year, so the students who didn't graduate were mixed in with the first-years. And ever since the kishin was defeated, there was an explosion of students who joined Shibusen, so the hall was _packed. _

_Hard to believe I was down there like them once, _Maka thought, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out her new Shibusen ID, flipping it on its laminated side. It was the same as the one from the previous year, only it had a new tiny star mark added to the top corner. Now she had two stars. _After all I did to get here, it was worth it. _

The first bell rang, the five-minute warning to get to class. Students in the first floor hall began to file into their classrooms, clearing the hallway until only a few still confused students remained. She thought it time for her to get to her own class, until she saw a familiar shape making his way down the hallway leisurely, poking his head into some of the doorways he passed. It was Soul Evans, wearing his new uniform he received as a Death Scythe. Maka couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness; after the final battle, Soul was reassigned to a different meister. She still had yet to find a new weapon.

Maka started up the stairs to try and avoid an awkward conversation with her former partner and roommate, but unfortunately Soul noticed her escape. "Oi, Maka! I didn't think I'd see you down here with all the newbies." he called, but an offended glare from one of the passerby first-years made him blush in embarrassment. Maka turned back to the hallway. "Oh, hi, Soul." she tried not to let her gloom show. "I could ask the same of you. I thought you were with your meister?"

He looked bored, shrugging his shoulders. "I was, but Kid – I mean Shinigami-sama – asked me to come visit some of the first-year classrooms to answer any questions they may have about the school. My meister is supposed to be doing the same, but I haven't seen him all day so far."

She felt a rush of pride when Soul talked about his new responsibilities as a Death Scythe. She was proud that her overly-confident and sometimes cocky partner was able to rise so high because of her. She felt happy for him. "Sounds like you're moving up in the world, Soul."

"You could call it that. So what's a girl who likes to be early to her classes doing down here four minutes to the bell?"

She patted the side railing of the stairs. "I thought I might take a look at my One-Star past. For old time's sake."

"Yeah, that was one crazy year. The witch/cat soul mix-up, the kishin's revival, beating the crap out of Medusa...good times."

She giggled. "As crazy and good as those times were, I'm glad to be moving onto a more peaceful world now. That way I can continue to follow in my mother's footsteps without having to fight the entire underworld."

"Still going for that, eh?" he smiled. "Still a straight-A student I see. No kishin or witch can change that." he held up a hand and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a skull-themed cell phone that vibrated in his hand. He flipped it open. "Hello?...Yeah I'm at the academy. What? Again?..." he looked up at the clock as the person on the other line continued to speak in a rapid voice so loud that Maka could hear it from where she was. "...yeah, I can make it. I know, I'll tell Stein that I'll be late. See ya." he closed the phone and stuffed it into his pocket, nodding back to the hall. "That was my meister. Kid called us to the Death Room for some Death Scythe thing. I have to go."

"Oh, okay. Good luck, Soul."

He started down the hall, waving back. "Yeah, you too Maka. Tell Professor D. I said hey."

Before she had time to ask who Professor D. was, Soul had already turned the corner, leaving her alone in the hallway, which reminded her that she was going to be late for her own class in a few minutes. She hurried up the stairs and jogged down the hall, gazing up at the classroom signs for a 'Class Half-Moon'. It was the last door on the right side of the hall, tucked in a corner in the back of the building. She poked her head inside the open doorway, surprised to find it very dark inside. She began to think that she had the wrong room when she made out tiny flickers of light inside, coming from little candles set up in front of each seat in each row, and two on the teacher's desk, which was unoccupied. _Why the hell is it so dark in here? __And where's the teacher? What kind of professor doesn't show up early to his own class on the first day of school?_

There weren't that many students in the room, so luckily Maka found the front row – her preferred spot – available. She settled down on the bench, finding the padded cushions to her liking. _Whoever he is, the professor has class. After years of sitting in hard plastic chairs, this is a sweet upgrade. _When her eyes had a chance to adjust to the dim light, she could see a lot more of the room. The front of the room was set with three large chalkboards, scribbled with student's graffiti. Two large bookcases that sat on either side of the three boards were laid up against the wall, packed with textbooks and papers. The small nameplate on the teacher's desk read 'PROFESSOR D.' in bright gold letters that reflected the firelight. _Professor D.? So that's who Soul was talking about. I'm guessing this guy is a big wheel in the academy for a Death Scythe like Soul to know him. Strange though, I've never heard of him before today. _

Looking back, she noticed that most of the kids sat in the upper back rows. But the way their faces were lit up by artificial light,, Maka guessed that they only sat back there so they could get away with being on their phones. _Kids these days, _she thought wryly, pulling out a book. It was titled 'Soul Resonance: Properties, Mechanics and Fundamentals'. She'd read it already, so she just skimmed ahead to her favorite chapter since the kishin's revival a year ago, a chapter on maintaining stable resonance while in the presence of madness wavelengths. Just reading it helped Maka to better navigate the kishin's wavelengths to find Crona's.

She was just past the introduction when the final bell rang. The other students rustled in their seats. Maka closed her book and set it to the side, under the firelight of the candle. A group of students filed into the classroom last-minute, filling in some of the empty seats of the room. Then the class waited. And waited. Aaand waited.

_Forget what I said about class. This is downright rude. _

One eternity later, a man of whom Maka assumed to be the teacher walked into the classroom, his nose in a book. He sat down at the front desk without so much as a glance. A small smile sometimes appeared on his face as he read, and he occasionally nodded. _He's completely ignoring us! Who does he think he is? _

"Good morning, class." the man announced in a deep baritone, his attention still on the book.

"Good morning, Professor D." the class chanted back, sounding bored already. Maka didn't join in the chorus, she was still too shocked at the teacher's behavior.

Professor D. raised his gaze, his eyes glowing in the firelight...wait, his eyes _were _glowing. He set down the book and adjusted his cape collar...didn't that look familiar too? And come to think of it, didn't that sharp-cut hair style remind her of someone?

"Well, nice to see you're all awake and...lively." he smiled wide, almost blinding the front row. _Wow, those are some pearly whites. _"I take it you all had a lovely summer?"

"Yes, Professor D." the kids droned again.

The strange man stood and raised up his book, holding his place with one finger. "Have you all read this lovely novel?"

Maka squinted to see the cover. "_Dracula_? Yeah, I've read it."

The professor tossed the book to her. He cocked his head up as if he was flipping his hair. "It's loosely based on my life."

_Of _course. He's the spitting image of the ancient vampire Dracula! "Y-you're kidding."

"Check the back."

Skeptic, Maka turned the book over. At the bottom of the cover, the author's name was printed in gold letters, much like the nameplate on the professor's desk. "'Count Devlin Dracula.'" she read, frowning. "Are you saying that _you _wrote this book?"

"No, that would be my father. I am Devlin Dracula the Second."

_Wonderful. _"So does that make you a vampire?" At this point, Maka couldn't understand why almost none of the class seemed particularly interested in the subject. Sure, Franken Stien was their one-star teacher, but the idea that a _vampire _was teaching them had to be at least somewhat interesting. Either that or everyone already knew and Maka was the only one out of the loop. That seemed to happen a lot.

Professor D. had turned to the center blackboard and started to write out his full name in chalk. Then just below it, he drew a tiny chibi portrait of himself with cute little vampire fangs. "Yes and no. Yes to the immortality, fear of the sun and nocturnal tendencies, no the blood-sucking. It's just disgusting."

"But then what do you eat?" one student called from somewhere behind her, whose high-pitched voice sounded very familiar.

"Good question, Black Star," said the professor without even turning around. "I guess you can say that I don't eat anything. I can't die of hunger, so eating just seems like a waste of money and time."

_I can't even believe we're having this conversation. _"But if you're so concerned about time, why did you show up so late?" Maka asked.

The professor turned back to the class. "The sun was a little too bright this morning, so I waited until there was enough cloud cover to leave But I'm here now and that's all that matters. Now, I believe that I've wasted enough of this class time with chit-chat." he clapped his hands together. "Who would like to introduce themselves first?"

_Oh great. He's one of _those _teachers. _"Is that really necessary...?" Maka muttered.

To her surprise, Dracula the Second turned his glowing bright smile to her. "Ah, thank you for volunteering! Why don't you step right up and introduce yourself?"

"Um, I don't–"

"Aw, don't be shy, I don't bite." Some of the kids snickered at his lame joke. But it didn't help when he flashed her his bright smile. Reluctantly, the meister left the safety of her row and walked across the front of the room, standing beside Dracula. Up close, she could see a pair of fangs in all that whiteness. _Not a blood-sucker my butt. _

"Now, what might your name be?"

"Maka Albarn."

Professor D. nodded. "What can you tell us about yourself?"

"I'm a Two-Star meister. O-obviously. And I used to be the meister of Soul Evans."

There was some chatter amongst the students, as if they only recognized her because of the Death Scythe. _I guess that's the only drawback to being a meister. No recognition. _

"Impressive for someone so young!" Professor Dracula exclaimed. "And the vanquisher of the kishin, no less. I'd say that's a resume worth looking at!"

He patted her back a few times, gently pushing her toward her seat. "Alright, who's next?"

Before another student could 'volunteer', one of the Shibusen staff poked into the room. "Mr. Devlin. Shinigami-sama would like to speak with Ms. Albarn."

The vampire waved a hand at him, already calling up the next unfortunate student to put in the hot seat. "Yes, yes. Have fun."

"What does he want?" she asked, but barely had time to squeeze in another word before she was being pulled down the halls and toward the Death Room, a little to urgently to be comfortable.

"You have a visitor." was all he said before ushering her into the spacious room, shutting the painted double doors behind her. The familiar guillotine archways marked the winding pathway to the center of the room. She had to admit, not seeing the old Shinigami standing on the platform waving his huge, blocky hands was a bit foreign. Instead, a short figure dressed in a symmetrical suit with asymmetrical hair waited for her, with Maka's supposed 'visitor'. To be honest, Maka was expecting someone she hadn't seen in a long time, like her mother, or perhaps her father, who had been transferred to another country after the battle with the kishin. But she had never seen this boy before.

For starters, he looked a lot older than her. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. His short, dark blue hair and narrowed eyes made him look mean and intimidating, and the fact that half his face was covered by his tall-collared black jacket that flowed down past his knees didn't make him look any more inviting. Just standing a few feet away made her want to squirm. "H-hey, Kid. I mean Shinigami-sama. How have you been?"

The poor boy looked exhausted; he had some dark circles and some of his hair was frizzed. "Not as well as I thought I would be by now. Being the new Shinigami is more work than anything I've ever anticipated, even more so since Asura was defeated. Trying to rebuild a broken world is...quite the task."

Before he could continue, the 'visitor' interrupted. "With all due respect, Shinigami, I'd like to assert my purpose, if you'd allow me."

Kid nodded wearily. "Yes, of course. Maka, this is...is...um..." he rubbed his temples. "I've forgotten already...please excuse me, you two...I need to go and check in with Nygus again, the migraines are starting up again..." the Shinigami bowed and shuffled down the halls, hanging his head. _I feel so bad for Kid. He literally has the weight of the world on his shoulders and can't even afford to rest. _

The visitor straightened up. "Maka, I have traveled far to meet you today. I am Tsukiyomi."

"Maka Albarn."

"Yes, the mighty Kishin Slayer herself. It's a pleasure." he bowed politely.

"Kishin Slayer?" She liked the sound of that.

"It's what some have taken to calling you. Myself included."

"Um...thanks?"

"Forgive me if I seem rude, but I'd like to get right to the point. The kishin Asura will break free of the moon."

Instead of feeling shock like a normal person, Maka just laughed. "No, he's not. He's sealed inside _Brew. _No one can get out of that."

Tsukiyomi closed his eyes and made a face that looked like he was mentally counting down from ten. "It _will_ happen." he insisted.

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't take the word of a complete stranger that one of my best friends can't hold a deranged kishin in the freaking _moon._"

"When I was ten years old, the woman who raised me abandoned me on a rainy night and left me with one reminder that she even existed and I never figured out what it meant until last year." he held out a strange necklace that held a crescent moon shaped pendent. As he held it in front of Maka's face, a silky voice whispered,

_"It shall not be his reigning prison..."_

Maka stared at the talking necklace. "Um..."

He lowered the pendant, his face shadowing. "I should start at the beginning, then. I was created by a witch–"

"_Created_?"

With an exasperated sigh, Tsukiyomi stretched his arm out, which transformed into a shining dark blue scythe blade. The sudden transformation reminded Maka of Soul's form when he'd transform. "You're a...weapon?"

"Yes, but no ordinary weapon. Unlike the weapons wielded here at Shibusen, I wasn't created using a witch's soul. I was born from a magic tool."

"A...magic tool weapon?" _Is something like that even possible? H__e __doesn't look all that...magical. _

"In a sense, yes."

"And...the witch?"

"The same witch who created me raised me until I was ten years old, teaching me how to fight without a meister. Then one day she...disappeared."

"How?"

"I'm...unsure." he frowned, squinting at the ceiling as if he was trying to remember. "I only recall waking up in the company of a young married couple in a strange village one morning. Everything past that is a blur...as if...as if she managed to cut certain memories away."

_Can a witch even do that? _Maka wondered, listening intently to the boy's story but more focused on the prophecy the amulet held.

"You said that this witch left you that prophecy?"

He closed his fingers around the necklace, reverting his arm back to normal. "Yes. I must have listened to it a thousand times since that day, even though I had no inkling to what she meant. But hearing her voice somehow helped me cope with her disappearance. Do you know what I mean?"

She did. Though she hardly ever got to see or hear from her mother, the postcards she'd received from her every now and then were like breaths of fresh air. It always felt good to know that she was still alright and well, and that she still remembered Maka, of course. "I do. So you think that Asura will break free?"

"I know he will."

"And you're taking the word of a witch who abandoned you as a kid?"

"Well, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Maka frowned at the kid's strange attitude. "What if I were to believe you, anyway? I mean, how would you stop the kishin from getting out?"

Tsukiyomi tapped his shoe on the floor, thinking. "That's what I've been having difficulties with. She wasn't exactly the most straightforward..."

_You don't say. _

"...but I don't think she would warn be about something without giving me some kind of hint of how to stop it."

_Really? Because she's starting to seem _just _like that to me. _"So why come here then?"

"Because I need your help."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. _My _help? What could I do anyway?"

"I have a plan, Maka Albarn. I have to find her before the prophecy comes true. And to do that..." he paused, his whole body glowing dark blue. In a flash, he was shooting up into the sky, taking on the form of a great, double-bladed scythe that Maka unconsciously caught in her expert grip. "...I'll need a meister."


End file.
